


Safer to beg (than to take)

by Arnica



Series: Torchwood a/b/o [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, M/M, References to Knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnica/pseuds/Arnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones needs a way into Torchwood Three and his best one comes built in. Pity he doesn’t want to use it.</p>
<p>Part two of an alpha/beta/omega mini-verse done for Kink_bingo round 5 at Dreamwidth!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safer to beg (than to take)

  
If someone had asked Ianto Jones five months ago about his opinion on Claim Dynamics he would have given a witty, concise spiel on the modern omega’s rights and responsibilities to and for themselves, regardless of alphas and claimings. It would have made the listener laugh a bit, think a bit more than that, and everyone would have walked away satisfied by the political correctness of it all.

 

That was before he survived the slaughter at Canary Wharf.

 

If someone were to ask him today, they would get a much different answer about what it really means to be claimed. About the desperation, and the fear, and the bone deep stupid fucking biological imperative to find your fucking alpha in a crisis and stand beside them, support them as they protect you but his alpha is…

 

His cycle is fucked to hell. He hasn’t gone into heat since that last one where Lisa took the door off the hinges almost two months ago, and he’s losing weight that he can’t afford to shed that leaves him a pale wan ghost with lilac smudges under his eyes from hovering over Lisa, doing everything he can to keep her comfortable. The neat delicate scar from her teeth, hidden under the curl of his growing-too-long hair, itches constantly and Ianto may be coming apart slowly feeling his body try to reject in slow motion the best thing that’s ever happened to him while the rest of him is trying to save her. Even if he can’t smell her anymore under the sharp bitter funk of metal, even if half the time he’s not sure she recognizes his scent, Lisa is his alpha and his lover and he’s going to marry her one day. As soon as he saves her.

 

As soon as he can get his foot in the stupid bloody door of Captain Jack Harkness’ organization. Nothing’s worked so far. He’s saved the man from a weevil dressed like alpha bait and he just wandered off. He’s made him coffee, spectacular coffee that’s gotten him hired, and promoted, and introduced him to the pretty alpha from Public Relations who said her name was Lisa, and the man ignored him and continued on his way. He’s begged, he’s done everything but bare his throat and lick the corner of the man’s mouth and he’s willing to do that too for Lisa if he has to, if he can get close enough.

 

The dinosaur gives him that opportunity. A perfect one if only he weren’t so bloody fucking awful at begging for anything apparently. The slutty look doesn’t work, casual doesn’t work, and if the big mans eyes flicker with a trace of want when they scan Ianto in his ill fitted suit it’s not enough to keep Torchwood Three’s leader, the new Institute Director, from threatening to run him down in the road. Only the pterodactyl half a mile away does that.

 

Except maybe not. The snarling, hyper-aggressive alpha is easing down, shooting him flirty looks between snatches of probably inappropriate banter, turning towards him when they speak and it’s not until Ianto’s trying to force back a blush over doing something as obvious as complementing the man’s admittedly delicious scent that he remembers that he ran out of scent blockers two days ago. Jack Harkness isn’t warming up to Ianto Jones at all; but the chemical stew in the primitive part of the mans brain is telling him there’s something nearby that he wants right now and it’s only going to get worse the more Ianto runs and sweats. A couple more good dives towards his head by the screeching monster waddling around on the floor, darting its head aggressively at them and there won’t be an alpha in half a mile who won’t be able to tell that he’s an omega. Captain Harkness shoves a syringe at him, pausing as his hand presses against Ianto’s chest, and there’s nothing else to do but be the bait himself.

 

He’s already the bait anyway. At least the dinosaur can only _eat_ him.

 

And it works. For an entire ninety seconds his idea is perfect, and then it all goes to hell in a blur that leaves him winded on the cold cement, Captain Harkness sprawled over him, laughter at being successful fading away as he leans forward and without so much as asking permission, shoves his nose against the tender skin behind Ianto’s ear at the edge of his hairline, breathing in deeply enough that for a moment Ianto actually has to fight the part of himself that wants to lay there blissed out and docilely allowing himself to be scented to throw the two of them into a roll across the floor, out of the way of the dinosaur plummeting to the ground where they lay just moments ago.

 

“I…” The words, the relieved laugh all fade away under the large hands gripping the back of his head. Long fingers tangle in the thick curls there, jerking his head to the side so Jack Harkness can bury his face in the curve of Ianto’s neck even though he knows perfectly well the older man got enough of a whiff to know exactly who and what is sprawled on top of him.

 

“Why were you taking _blockers_? You know they’re bad for you if you take them too long, don’t you?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d hire me if you knew.” It’s a risky lie to tell, everyone who knew anyone from the top floors knew Captain Harkness was always trying to get permission to hire omegas for the Cardiff outpost and that Director Hartman denied it every time because the crown couldn’t afford the sexual harassment payments, but all Ianto can do is hope the man doesn’t know that he knows. “I should,” Ianto swallows, when he tries to push up to his knees and the tight grip in his hair and across his waist doesn’t ease. “I should go.” The fingers rubbing circles on his scalp slide down to the nape of Ianto’s neck, faltering as they hit the half raw semi circle of flesh where his body is trying to reject the bite scar Lisa inflicted more than a year ago. For a second Ianto sees sympathy, the genuine sympathy of someone who actually understands what happened to him, and then it’s gone because he’s never known an alpha male who didn’t think with his knot. He should have scrapped his pride and gone in this way from day one, even though he knows exactly how it’s going to end. “You don’t…you don’t want me in your team, I’ll stop following you.” He grits his teeth as the older man lets him up because this was literally the option of last resort and he’s unsure what to do if the captain doesn’t respond exactly right.

 

“Hey!” He freezes because he’s supposed to, because he’s now Ianto Jones; shy stereotypical Omega who would always stop when an alpha calls. “Report for work first thing tomorrow.” Ianto can’t help the little shudder of fear and relief that runs through him. When he said that if he ever knotted it would be for Lisa, this was never quite what he had in mind. “Love the suit by the way.”

 

He just hopes she’ll forgive him. 


End file.
